


The Witch's Son

by Haunted_Immortal



Category: Forever (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4140843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haunted_Immortal/pseuds/Haunted_Immortal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam is free from his paralyzed state and wrecking havoc on Henry's life once more. A trail of dead men appear, setting friend against friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The hum of the engine lulled Henry as the cab drove along the dark street. He peered out the window as he neared the antique shop. The windows were cold and desolate, no warm light to fill them while Abe was away visiting an old lady friend.

The cab slowed to a stop and Henry got out, paying the driver. He straightened his ruffled coat and approached the door.

He paused. Something wasn't right. The door was ajar, the glass smudged as if someone had pressed against it. Tenatively, he eased the door open and squinted into the leering darkness.

He slid inside and felt along the wall until he found the lightswitch. The bulbs buzzed to life, filling the shop with brightness.

The sight that greeted him shocked him. Papers were thrown messily around the room, books lying about, pages torn from them. Countless antiques were scattered around, many broken beyond repair. Drawers were empty,  their contents hastily dumped on the floor.

Carefully, Henry padded through the wreckage, his eyes roving around. His hand reached for the phone but stopped as his shoe bumped something soft and warm. He glanced down, surprised to find a man sprawled lifeless on the floor. Blood leaked around him, staining the floor a deep shade of red. A knife hilt protruded from his back.

Licking his dry lips, Henry grabbed the phone, quickly dialing Jo's number.

"Henry?" Her sleep-muffled voice greeted him.

"I'm sorry to disturb you at this ungodly hour, Jo, but I have just stumbled across a murdered man."

"Where are you?" Rustling sounds came from the other end as Jo began moving about.

"The antique shop. Someone broke in and ransacked the place." He replied, looking around once more at the carnage.

"Alright. I'll be there soon." The phone hummed as Jo hung up.

Henry set the phone down and knelt beside the man, studying the knife. A coldness chilled his blood as he realized it was a rusted pugio.

Startled, he rose sharply, looking around the shop. As he moved, a sharp pain sprouted in his lower back, a cold sensation sliding through muscle and tissue. A strong, icy hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him back onto the pocketknife.

"I hope the river is warm tonight." Adam's breath tickled his ear, the immortal present and unparalyzed.

Henry could only manage a choking gurgle, blood trickling from his mouth. Adam shoved him forward off the knife. He landed against the dead man, the strong stench of death and blood filling his nose. His breathing became labored until it ceased. His vision faded to black and his body disappeared in a flash, leaving the ancient immortal alone in the destroyed shop with a dead man and a pocket watch at his feet.


	2. Chapter 2

The river was certainly  _not_ warm on a late spring night in New York. The coldness bit at Henry's skin as he pushed his way to the moonlit surface. He broke it with a gasp, rejoicing at the breath of fresh air. He steadily swam towards the shore and crawled on to the bank.

"Henry?"

Henry looked up to see Jo's dark silhouette standing beside her car.

"Yes." He said softly.

"Good. Stay where you are." Her shape disappeared for a moment before reappearing. There was a muffled thump as something soft landed beside Henry. Clothes and a towel.

After quickly changing behind the sparse shelter of a bush, he joined Jo, his brown hair dripping still.

She wrinkled her nose. "What happened? I got there and you weren't there. Do you always die when there is a murder?"

Henry took a breath, collecting his scattered thoughts. "Adam. Adam killed me."

Jo was silent a moment. "I thought he was paralyzed and in the hospital."

"So did I. It seems he has freed himself, however."

"We still have a dead man in Abe's shop, Henry." She reminded him.

"Yes, but how does one convict an immortal?" He mused as he got into the passenger side of the car.

"Magic?" Jo supplied dryly, putting the key into the ignition.

The ride back to the shop was a silent one. When they arrived, the place was swarming with police.

Striding through the glass door with renewed confidence, Henry approached the man's body, snapping on a pair of gloves. Jo followed him, arms crossed.

"Lemme guess. C.O.D. a knife through the heart?"

Henry looked up at her, an eyebrow raised. "Yes, quite correct, Detective. There is also a sizable welt on the back of his head, suggesting he was knocked unconscious before he was stabbed. He was the one who broke in, as well, as there is evidence of paper cuts on his fingers, fresh. Ones you would receive from quickly rifling through many papers. He was searching for something." He sat back on his haunches and rested his arms on his knees, gazing around the wrecked place.

"Any idea what?" Jo asked curiously, studying him.

He met her gaze, knowing only too well what the man might have been searching for. She seemed to get the message and silenced, chewing her lip.

Henry rose and peeled off the gloves. He sighed through his nose. "The morning may bring more evidence." He said quietly, losing himself in thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day might not have brought new evidence, but it certainly brought rain. Thunder crackled across the dismal gray sky, sending buckets of torrential rain down on the streets of New York.

Henry was not one to be fazed by the less-than-ideal weather, though. He moved through the antique shop, tidying anything that hadn't been cleaned up the previous night.

He was setting a few fallen books back on to their respective shelves when he noticed his pocket watch leaned up against the shelf, a note pinned beneath it. He picked up the watch and inspected it before pocketing it. Gingerly, he unfolded the note, his eyes skimming the eloquently written words.

_Hell is empty and all the Devils are here.*_

_You may be immortal, Henry, but those you have feelings for are not. I hope you enjoy my present._

Henry read the note, fear striking his heart. _Abraham..._ No. Abe was away. Safe.  _But Jo... Lucas..._

Henry wasted no time in grabbing the phone. He punched in Jo's number and waited in agonizing silence while the phone rang.

Finally, someone picked up.

"Jo." Her name escaped him in a sigh of relief.

"Hey, Henry. What's up? Everything okay?"

"Jo..." He repeated, unsure of what to say now that he knew she was okay. "Meet me in my office. Please."

"Okay, but why--"

Henry ended the call before she could finish her sentence. Placing the phone back, he reread the paper. Adam had mentioned a present.

His gaze drifted to the door. On the floor, a neatly wrapped brown parcel rested. A half-dried flower was tied to the package.

He slowly walked over and bent to pick it up. His fingertips brushed the wrinkled petals. A Hellebore. _Helleborus orientalis._ Red Lady.

" _An English rose for my English rose._ "

He gingerly picked up the Hellebore, staring mournfully at its fragile form. After a moment, he took the parcel and rested it on a table.

Slowly, his fingers undid the tie and pulled the paper back. Inside was a newspaper dating to November 25, 2013, its edges slightly yellowed. It was from Wales, an article circled in thick black marker. The headline was, "Red Lady of Paviland bones 'should come home' to Wales."

Henry studied the article for a while before rising and tucking the newspaper beneath his arm. He set the Hellebore in a nearby cup, tugged his coat on and wrapped a scarf around his neck, pushing the door open and walking into the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Quote by William Shakespeare.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've decided to pick this story up again. Even if Forever doesn't get continued (though fingers crossed it does), we can still continue the storyline in our own works. Enjoy!

Jo was waiting for him when he entered the chilly morgue. Her arms crossed, she didn't speak until he had unlocked the door to his office and had stepped inside.

"So, what is it?" She inquired, loosing her arms.

"A gift from Adam." Henry replied gravely, handing her the note. She read it, her lips pressing into a thin line. A heavy sigh through her nose told him that she was having the same thoughts he had had.

"Great. What was his present?"

Henry showed her the newspaper. "The Red Lady of Paviland has been a common debate in Wales for a few years now." Jo's eyes scanned the article quickly as he continued. "Discovered in 1823 by William Buckland, the bones are covered in a red ochre, and, despite the naming, it has been identified as male. As Mr. Buckland did not know this at the time, and he was quite an eccentric man, he speculated that the Red Lady could have been a witch. However---" He trailed off as Jo raised her hand to stop the history lesson.

"Right. And what does this have to do with out murder victim?"

Henry gave Jo a half bemused look. "That, we will have to find out." He exited the office, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "Lucas?"

The brown-haired man looked up from where he sat, a graphic novel clutched in his hands.

"Could you give Jo and I a rundown on our victim?" He arched an eyebrow at his assistant. 

"Oh, yeah! Of course!" He got up quickly, setting the book aside. He pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and approached the table where the dead man lay. "He's been identified as one Guto Caton. Cause of death was a puncture wound that severed his spinal cord. Likely around midnight. I was able to find fragments of oxidized iron rubbed off on his skin. Whatever it was, it was old. Maybe a rusty spoon." He cracked a grin, looking up at the duo. It faded quickly and he looked back down sheepishly.

Henry turned the man's head, parting his thick brown hair to reveal a big bruise on the back of his cranium.  "He was knocked unconscious before the stabbing, presumably with one of Abraham's bookends."

Jo appeared unsatisfied. "Still no reason why he would be in Abe's shop."

"Perhaps searching for something..." Henry mused, going back to examining he body. "Guto is a Welsh name." He added, giving the detective a sideways glance.

"This just keeps getting better..." Jo muttered. She reached into her pocket as her phone began to rang. She answered it and had a hasty conversation with the caller. It ended quickly and she pocketed the smartphone, looking up to see Henry watching her expectantly. "Hanson. Said he found the man's wife and wants me to go talk to her. Ready for a field trip?"

"Very." He replied,  stripping off the gloves with a snap.


End file.
